


Oliver's Win

by sunflow_rs



Series: Quidditch Kiss Cam [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cute, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Harry Potter - Freeform, Kiss cam, M/M, Oliver is in denial, Post-Hogwarts, Puddlemere United, Quidditch, The Falmouth Falcons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 10:29:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16084274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflow_rs/pseuds/sunflow_rs
Summary: Oliver, a new keeper for Puddlemere United, faces the Falmouth Falcons and their chaser Marcus Flint.





	Oliver's Win

The wind bet harshly onto Oliver’s face as he held tightly to his broom, grateful for the dragon hide of his gloves protecting his hands from the weather. The clouds moved slow and heavy above the quidditch pitch, threatening rain at any moment. Most of the spectators were no doubt wishing that either Puddlemere or the Falcons would catch the snitch before they were doused with a downpour. Oliver was the opposite. He loved playing quidditch no matter the weather.

A few spits landed on his navy blue robes which streamed out behind him as he dove, stretching out his leg to kick the quaffle towards Wadcock, the Puddlemere chaser. The cheers of the crowd were deafening at his expert save and Oliver couldn’t help but smile. His hard work as Gryffindor quidditch captain had paid off and now he was doing what he loved most. 

His eyes concentrated, following the quaffle intensely. It was currently in Puddlemere’s possession but Oliver knew that it wouldn’t be long until he would have to save another goal and prevent the Falmouth Falcons from scoring. They were a tough team to beat, and Oliver knew that not only were their players superb, but their methods were violent and fierce. He also knew the team’s star chaser, Marcus Flint.

It was the perfect team for Flint to be accepted into after Hogwarts. Their unconventional play and rule-breaking made it ideal for the past Slytherin captain who often got fouled during Hogwarts’ games. There was no doubt about it though, Flint was as good at quidditch as he was passionate. Despite their rivalry and high tension at Hogwarts, Oliver never hated Flint. In fact it was quite the opposite. He had always admired the older man’s drive to win and his determined play.

Through Adrian Pucey, a mutual friend of Flint’s and a good guy, Oliver had found out that the burly player had to go through a lot. Oliver, with his consistent grades and loving family, had never considered that there were some wizarding families that thought of quidditch as a backup plan. A job that was unworthy of upper class, pureblood wizards and witches. Adrian had accidentally mentioned to Oliver that Flint was kicked out because of his decision to play quidditch professionally. That just made Oliver respect the man a hell of a lot more. 

Oliver just wouldn’t admit that this respect transcended the bounds of platonic feelings.

The voice of the commentator echoed across the pitch. “Keitch of the Falcons has the quaffle, nearly hit by a bludger from Greengrass there! He maintains hold of the ball, heading towards the new Puddlemere keeper Wood! Passes to Flint, who shoots and - Wood saves!” 

Out of breath but dizzy with adrenaline, Oliver threw the quaffle back into play. He swooped between the three posts and kept his eyes fixed on the field ahead, following the red ball as it was passed between the Puddlemere chasers and then intercepted by Flint. Groaning along with the crowd, Oliver steadied his broom and dived as Flint feigned a throw, ultimately scoring.

“That’s 10 points for the Falcons! Keeping them in the lead at 60:40! This is a close game, folks!”

Oliver watched on, feeling happy with their score but impatient to win. He grimaced as Flint and the other Falcon’s chaser Body Blowed Puddlemere’s Griffiths, closing in on her and forcing her to drop the quaffle. Flint grinned triumphantly, tucking the ball under his arm and flying towards Oliver and the goal posts. There was a clang as Oliver sharply turned, hitting the quaffle with the end of his broom and away from the goals. 

Flint glared, while Oliver just winked smugly. Somehow he enjoyed the continuation of their rivalry.

“And that is a foul! Flying with intent to collide, otherwise known as blatching.” The commentator spoke, sounding far too happy in this weather and considering what had just happened. 

“Puddlemere United’s captain has called for a time out following the injury of his chaser! Well, out comes the kiss cam!” The commentator’s voice rang out and the wind was icy as Oliver flew towards his team members who were arguing with the Falcons. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t been fouled yet, Flint.” Oliver remarked, not getting involved in the disagreement between the two captains.

Flint grunted in response, his mouth set in a determined line. “You’re pretty good.”

Oliver couldn’t believe that Marcus Flint, of all people, had just complimented his play. “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.”

That’s when he noticed the kiss cam, battling against the wind with its tiny wings but nonetheless facing himself and Flint. 

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! KISS! KISS! KISS!” The crowd’s chanting was so loud that the Falmouth Falcons and Puddlemere United stopped arguing in order to watch the keeper and chaser.

Oliver was a mixture of horror and disbelief. Now he not only had to admit to himself that he had feelings for the Slytherin, but to the whole of England. Aside from his horror at such a public coming out, it forced Oliver to realise that this also meant Flint’s feelings were reciprocated. 

“This is a surprise, F- Marcus.” Oliver corrected himself as he hovered on his broom a few feet away. 

Marcus flew over and steadied himself in the wind by grasping at Oliver’s Puddlemere robes. “Kiss me you dolt.”

So Oliver obliged, his lips slotting into the other man’s. The wind battered against the couple and it started to rain, their teeth clashing together lightly from the difficulty of maintaining the height of their brooms in the harsh wind. Oliver only smiled into the kiss, deepening it to the cheers of the quidditch fans and their teammates. 

Puddlemere United may not have won that night, but Oliver certainly did.


End file.
